Dreams Of Rememberance
by tiggerjojo
Summary: (Fin!)This is the sequel to Darkness that Dreams Are Made Of. everything was back to normal, but something happened that gods had nothing to do with. Freewill, and sometimes that gift is more powerful than heaven or hell combined and Harry, begins to rem
1. Again

The author is eviler than she appears. This is the sequel to "The Darkness That Dreams Are Made Of" You don't have to go read it but it sure helps a hell of a lot. Oh, and the characters aren't mine, blah, blah, blah, this fic contains lots of slashy goodness, ect…you know the drill. 

Dreams Of Remembrance

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1. Again

Destiny had failed in her task, thing had gone out of hand and the Lady finally taken notice. The Lady, the god of the wizards, although they knew not her existence she was the one that gave power and took it away. She had taken from Destiny her power and cast her down onto the world to live as a mortal. Fate now took her position until another could be found to take Destiny place. 

The Lady shook her head and looked down upon her world, now held motionless. She nodded and then….

There was a tentative knock of the door and a muffled call of, "Is there anyone in there?"

__

When Draco didn't answer, the door opened to reveal Harry Potter.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know this compartment was occupied," he started before finally recognizing Draco, "Malfoy?" His expression instantly went cold, "Where're are your goons? Or do enjoy fucking yourself better?"

"Get the hell out of my compartment Potter. Now."

"Fine with me, I'd rather eat flober worms than stay in a compartment with you."

Harry turned away and everything was back to normal, just the way it was supposed to be….but something happened that gods had nothing to do with. Freewill, and sometimes that gift, given to the mortals upon their creation, is more powerful than heaven or hell and Harry remembered, just a flicker, just for just a second, he remembered.

"We've done this before." His hand dropped from the handle of the door and he turned around to look at Draco once more.

"What the hell are you talking about Potter? I thought I told you to get the fuck out!"

"Not yet Malfoy, listen to me for a minute."

"Why would I want to listen to some delusional, parentless loser?"

"Just shut up Draco!"

"What. The. Fuck. Did. You. Call. Me?"

Harry looked confused for second, "Draco, I called you Draco. That being your name and all. It felt like I said it before though, it seemed so natural."

"That is bloody disgusting. Never call me by my first name again, Potter."

Harry opened his mouth to say something but stopped half way, another memory passed through his mind, this one stronger.

"Potter quit standing there like an absolute idiot and get the fuck out of my compartment!"

Harry didn't move to leave though, instead he went over and sat down so that he was across from Draco.

"Potter I will give you three more seconds to get the fuck out before I transfigure you into a squid!"

Harry blinked and tried to focus his eyes.

"One."

Harry didn't move.

"Two."

Still he remained motionless. Draco drew his wand from his robes.

"Thre.."

"Wait…Draco."

"What the fucking bloody hell do you want Potter!?"

"I remember, something. Before when I can in here, I remember doing it before."

"You are pissing me off because of some fucking deja-vu?"

"No, wait a minute, Draco, I remember something else."

"What?! Quit with the fucking suspense already!"

"Scars…"

"Bloody brilliant scar-face, finally remember your own head?!"

"Not my scar," Harry said fingering his forehead gently, "your scars."

"What scars!? You've lost your mind Potter!"

"The scars all over your body, the wounds that are there even now and something……your father. He hurts you."

Draco's face had gone pale, unbridled anger rose like wave inside him.

"How the fuck do you know that?!" He hissed out, between clenched teeth. He stood up and drew his wand aiming at Harry's head. "Tell me how the fuck you know that!"

Harry blinked and slowly rubbed his temples, "Because…you told me."

Draco's eyes clouded over and his wand slipped from nerveless fingers, "I've never told anyone. It's not possible."

"But I remember, Draco. It was a long time ago and not far away. You have to remember Draco! I can remember more and more, It's coming back. Don't you?…"

Draco shook his head violently and bent down to pick up his wand. His face a livid shade of red, "If fucking tell anyone about, this, I will hunt you down and I will kill you, Potter."

And Draco left, storming of the compartment and slamming the door behind him. Leaving Harry alone to contemplate what had just happened and, the memories. 


	2. The Artistry Of Pain

Hey, I'm sorry I haven't been replying to all the reviews I've been getting but it's getting to the point where I have so many that to reply to all of them would make my replies longer than the chapter and make you all very mad at me for making it look like the story is twice as long as it really is. I'm gonna try something new after this chapter and I know this sound horrible but…after this chapter I will reply to five reviews and five only, the best I suppose, and just complimenting me won't work although it will do wonders for my ego. Ask me questions, suggest things, give me ideas (I'm kinda running low on my own) That kind of thing. Don't hate me I just…I dunno, don't hate me 'k?

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Dreams Of Remembrance

2.

The Artistry Of Pain 

Harry pov 

I sat in that compartment for the longest time, trying to think. To identify where the hell those memories had come from. Memories? How can I call them memories when they are simply images I think are a future past. A future past? Maybe I finally lost it. But, they were so real, it was like looking back into a past through your eyes, a past that didn't exist, that isn't real but at the same time is. 

They stopped as well, once Draco left the room the images stopped as suddenly as they started. Draco? Why does it seem so natural to call him Draco? Was that last image true? That horrid vision with Draco covered in bleeding wounds and badly healed scars, that voice, his voice, broken as if filled with tears; and only two words, 'my father'. It's like a broken jigsaw puzzle but with only a handful of pieces how can it ever make a complete picture?

I touch my neck and tilt my head down, "_What do you make of it Proscrit?_"

Proscrit uncoiled himself to raise up and look into my eyes, "_Master, I know not what to tell you but this, snakes are the creaturs of evolved evil, the form the devil first took. Because of this no god can touch us. A snake, never forgets anything._"

__

"Then you know?" I ask.

__

"Yes, but as I said before, Master, I can tell you no more. But perhaps, an old saying of our kind, one I have said before. A snake, without a mate is forced to eat its own tail. If you do not solve your jigsaw puzzle you **will** destroy yourself."

"Thank you Proscrit, although I'm not sure if I can ever make sense of your riddles, or warnings."

"You will one day, Master."

I nodded and pulled one of my quill sharpeners from my robes, rolling up my sleeve, exposing rivulets of long past healed scars, curling and winding in exquisite patterns. Underneath clothing you could see the designs stemming directly from the center of the chest, as if my very heart was exploding and raining down my torso and arms. I hadn't shown anyone these, they were a representation of my pain, my pleasure, my life.

I'm not exactly sure, just how it was that I became enamored with pain. I was angry once, locked in my room with very little than my own precious belongings and myself, my own body. At first I could handle little more than a quick, shallow cut, maybe only a centimeter or longer. Now the wounds become as long and as deep as my body can handle, often ten centimeters square filled with intricate spiraling designs leaving the skin loose and filled with blood. 

The scars, no, the artistry had reached past my wrists on both arms, down my chest and back. I now work down my legs and possibly even my hands. Yes, my hands should be next. I lick my pen knife to clean it of past, work. It's become slightly dull. I have to remember to sharpen it, harder to work with when it's dull.

Before I start I pull from my bag, bandages; hopefully enough to stop the bleeding so it won't show through. I'll do my right hand first, I can hope there won't be too many writing assignments this early in the year. Next on the list is an excuse as to what happened, I can't tell them the truth, whatever I say must be believable but embarrassing enough that they won't try to take me to the hospital wing. Ah, yes, I know.

I close my eyes and it takes hold of me, that plague of darkness, it wasn't before. Isn't that odd, before I enter this compartment before the memories, the plague was not. It was white and pure like liquid ivory. Then again, my mind tells me that it has been bled with darkness for a long time. The darkness is stronger as well, easier to control, it holds my point steady and sharpens my gaze until I see every pore and hair in my skin, a tapestry unto itself and; I shall destroy it. 

I allow the knife to take a life of its own, to carve its own path. My magic, the beast that inhabits me, that I have just a year or more ago discovered how to manipulate. That day I went against everything I had been built up to be and I told no one about it. It wasn't until I had this power that I realized how insignificant that power my peers struggled to control. What they don't understand is that, you don't control it, it controls you. That is the key to true power.

Blood struggles to overflow, hinder my work, a thread of darkness escapes my control and presses the blood down, suppressing the blood, effective. I allow more magic to escape. A smile unwittingly crosses my face, it's eerie how enjoyable it's become and how, every time I find myself pressing my body more and more, testing it's threshold of pain. I've blacked out more times than I can count but when I wake I simply start anew. 

Wait. Something invades my senses, outside the door. Draco, he's back but why? I look around. A bag near the window, he must have forgotten it. He's stopped? No paused, he's trying to discern as to whether I have left or not. The door opens and he steps through, looking behind him instead of to where he might have seen me. Closing the door, he turns around, his shocked expression indicating that he had been under the assumption the compartment was empty. Then his eyes drift down. 

They lock onto my hand, now bleeding freely after my concentration broke. His face turns pale, his expression mingled to that of shock, horror, and repulsion. 

"You forgot your bag." I murmur, a grin still suffices my face and I am unable to look away from his face.

"My god." He whispers, his usual finesse lost in the moment.

I look down at my blood drenched hand and glance back up, "What's the matter, Draco? You should be honored, you're the first person to see this."

Draco blinks rapidly and I am suddenly taken again by a vision, snow all around me and then Draco, looking at me; he smiles, not a smirk, a real smile. His cheeks are flushed with cold and his eyes glitter with happiness. He leans forward, closing his eyes and…

…A kiss…

I look back at Draco, he is turned away from me, moving to get his bag. I stand up as he tries to leave, grabbing his arm and pulling him around to face me, my blood dripping off my hand and soaking into his robes. He tries to pull away but I grab his face between my two hands, blood running freely unto his face, his eyes are wide with shock and possibly fear but he stops struggling. My thumb gently caresses his bottom lip, he pulls back slightly, away from my hands, like a faded beasts last struggle before yielding.

I lean into him, kissing him gently, deeply. A million feelings explode within me in a way that reminds me of…coming home. His face flushes and his eyes reluctantly close as if he no longer has control over his body anymore. He leans into me, bringing the kiss together, pressing into me. Then before the kiss has even begun it ends and Draco startles back to the reality of now. He pulls away, shock and horror mark his every feature. He leaves, blood upon him as if his wounds had reopened. 

That image, this is more than I could ever believe or dream, the past, future. Draco and I…I will solve this puzzle and, and I will, make him remember, remember…loving me…. 

TBC


	3. A Single Memory Of Dieing

You all hate me, I just know it. I am truly, sincerely, deep down in the depths of my heart sorry. I know it's been forever since I updated and stuff and I have lots of really good excuses although you probably don't care and won't take the time to read them but, here is goes *takes deep breath* FirstIhadmysemesterfinalstodealwithandohmygodweretheyapaininthebuttbuthenIhadplaypractiseeverydayexseptmostweekendsfromthreetosixwhichleftmeverylittletimeforwritingandthenIcouldn'tthinkofanythingandIwentintoaslumpbutwatchedGravitaionandpartofYaminoMatsueibothwhicharefilledwithyaioygoodnessandIhighlyrecomendthemandnaywaytheyhelped. *Whew!* You catch all that? Didn't think so but I am really sorry, you gotta believe me. *Big, sad, shiny puppy dog eyes* Pwease?

Dreams Of Remembrance

A Single Memory Of Dieing 

Draco Pov

Blood, blood, everywhere. I am covered in blood, now not only my own but that of his, Harry Potter. His hand covered in blood and more blood, when his lips touched mine, I was lost in a sea blood. It seemed like a memory, I saw through my eyes, my own hands slitting my wrists with that blood thirsty knife my father had bought for me and Harry holding me, cutting his own wrists and sharing his blood with me and sealing the wounds with the flat burning red edge of the same knife. Then it was gone and I had blood running down my cheek and my lips were pressed against that of my arch rival.

I can still see his eyes watching mine and I can still see the blood. All throughout my life, that which I remember most vividly is my own blood but to see another's, upon my skin. I can't remove it from my mind. I can still feel it, drying on my skin. Those I pass look with shock and horror but I can't find my face, cover my expression with the mask of contempt I normally carry. 

Someone blocking my path, no, something, "Goyle, move your fat ass out of my way, now." 

He turns around and looks at me with that same stupid expression that always seems to be glued there.

"Wha happened to yur face Draco?"

"What does it look like dumb ass?"

"Looks like red stuff."

"Its blood you freakin idiot now get the fuck out of my way before I kill you."

He somehow miraculously manages to work it through his fat head this time and ambles out of the way. I pushed past him and stumbled into the small bathroom. Filling the sink with hot water, I desperately try to scrub from my face, of Potter's blood until the sink water is colored pink, like that night, before school started and…It matters not.

I can feel the train slowing, I don't even have time to change out these robes, the blood is still damp in the sleeve and around the collar. I shudder involuntarily at the thought. By the time I manage to collect myself the train is stopped and most have already gotten off and boarded the carriages. I follow finding one empty and climbing in. I start to close the door when another from the outside pulls it back open.

Him. Potter. He climbs in without even a glance in my direction. I think he has lost his mind, it can be the only explanation. His hand is now wrapped in clean white bandages but are beginning to soak with blood, his sleeve also is stained but you almost can't tell with these infernal black robes.

He turns and sits in front of me, propping his head with one hand and looking at me. I lean back, away from him, and start towards the door, he simply continues to watch me. I grab the door handle and…it's locked. How?…he didn't…I saw no wand, heard no spell. Then how did he?

"Draco…" He murmurs, that smile still plastered to that stupid mug of his.

I fix on my best scowl and look out the window. 

"Look at me, Draco, or do I have to make you look at me, again?"

An image of his hands upon my face flashes through my mind and blood. I slowly turn and look at him, making eye contact with him only out of the corner of my eye. His smile transforms itself into an amused smirk, one that seems to mirror one of my own.

"What do you want, Potter?" I growl, trying to keep the fear from my voice. I am an asshole, I feel no guilt nor pain, I can handle this, just keep acting pissed off.

He reaches out and I tense up, he pauses for a moment then reaches out and takes my hand. I watch him, shock plastered on my every feature, I must look like so stupid fish out of water. His fingers draw invisible designs on my skin. Caressing me, his hands, are so kind. A shiver run down my back and pull my mind back from those thoughts. I have to hate him. I have to always hate Harry Potter.

He lifts my hand and I try, without success to remove it from his grip. He gently kisses the back of my hand, glancing up to gauge my reaction. His eyes crinkle in amusement at my discomfort. He drops my hand and sits back up. What is he trying to do?

"Draco, when I kissed you." Harry started, pausing when I shuddered, "When I kissed you I saw another image and I think you did too."

"I have no fucking idea what you're talking about, Potter."

He tilted his head, "Really? Are you saying you didn't see yourself dieing in a pool of blood and me, I remember holding you and sharing my blood with you and touching the wounds with a angry blood thirsty knife."

I felt my face betray my feelings, shock, dismay, "How the…?" 

He nods slowly and glances out the window, sighing, "We'll be to the school soon. Death would be more pleasant."

I found no remark. Had he just said he would rather die than go to school? This cannot be Harry Potter.

"Who are you?"

He turned back and his smirk was replaced by a sad smile. I felt the carriage slow to a halt and he reached out and once again took my hand, this time I found no resistance. He pulls me gently over to him and as I comply I find his arm wrapping around my neck, his face next to mine. His breath hot on my ear. Reality shocks me back as he slowly draws his tongue along my cheek, tasting me. My breath catches in my throat as his mouth moves over, his free, undamaged hand through my hair, pushing it back. His mouth gently captures my earlobe and suckles upon it. 

My mind is numb. I, I can't think strait. He brings out from within me, feelings. I don't know these feelings but, they are so precious to me. I have this nagging feeling that it cost dear to gain their trust and that I am such a fool to deign them. I want to die in this moment, without having to think about who is doing this to me. I'm drowning in ecstasy.

"Draco," He whispers in my ear, "Can I keep you?"

He releases me and leaves the carriage, stepping out into the cold autumn hair which toys with his stray locks. Beautiful…NO! God no! …Did I just think that? What does it mean? 

"Draco, think about your answer carefully. Once, you answered yes but before you answer me again, remember."

I stumble and pull myself out of the carriage, watching him as he calmly walks to the castle, totally in control. An image of unshakable perfection…if I could kill these thoughts. What is going to happen to me? 

TBC


	4. Let the Games Begin

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Let the Games Begin

Harry made his way to the end of his table, watching out of the corner of his eye as Draco slipped into a seat between Crabbe and Pansy. He smiled as Draco coldly pushed Pansy away and then brushed off Crabbe's poor attempts at conversation. To be honest, Harry didn't watch any of the sorting ceremony or listen to Dumbledore's speech. He would, however, have had to have been both deaf and stupid to have not heard Dumbledore call out his name to the entire school in a last minute announcement.

"Harry, my boy, do come up front so that we can have a better look at you eh?"

Harry stood and slipped from his seat, walking calmly toward the front, watched like some sort of god descended to earth. What they didn't know was that their normally unshakable Harry Potter was, absolutely furious, and he didn't have the faintest inkling why. Wait, yes he did. He hated being Harry Potter and hate those who only saw him as the idol Harry Potter and so, he hated every single being on the planet, the special exception being Draco. 

"I have something to present to our, Mr. Potter. We tried to owl him of course but it seems that his mail couldn't get through so I saw fit to announce it here, against the better judgment of Professor Snape."

Harry stopped at the front, trying to mask his loathing and once again glanced to Draco. Draco had a look that seemed to read, 'figures, he's always the special one' this made Harry even more livid.

"I am proud to notify you of your election by popular vote as our new Headboy!"

Cheers rang out from around the room as Dumbledore easily pinned the shining badge upon Harry's chest, Dumbledore raised his hands and gradually the room quieted.

"Would you like to say something, Harry?"

And Harry turned and looked out at the amassed students, and with a brilliant smile plastered upon his face, raised his middle finger to the entire room and said, "Go to hell." and calmly walked out of the hall, now ringing with shocked silence.

His pace slowed once out of the hall and he breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned back against the wall. A soft smile played across his face as he watched the stars through the window across but his attention was soon diverted by the sound of foot steps approaching from whence he came. Harry slowly tallied the number of people it could, eyes closed, counting the foot steps until whoever it was was right in front of him, blocking the starlight from the open window.

Of course to the number of people he did expect, Draco was not one of them, or at least not very high on the list but, there he was, standing in front of Harry outlined by celestial light.

Harry watched him with half lidded eyes, "You look like a god, Draco."

Draco didn't answer but the look on his face, even he wasn't sure why he had come. He seemed to struggle against his own will but was he fighting to stay or fighting to leave?

Harry pushed himself up from the wall, stepping forward and carefully wrapping his arms around Draco.

Draco stiffened slightly, his breath caught in his throat, his mind was confused but his body wasn't, it knew Harry's embrace, his scent, his touch. His mind and body acting almost as separate entities, every new 'memory' caused Draco to lose his grip a little more each time. Now, Draco could barely remember why he didn't want Harry to hold him, he couldn't think of why he hated Harry. Emotions that never existed before surfaced and his mind was cluttered with flashes of a life that never happened.

"Oh, god, Draco. I miss you so much." Harry's voice echoed softly, almost broken, as if on the verge of tears.

"Don't cry." Draco heard himself say.

Harry's arms loosened and let go of Draco, eyes searching Draco's own and his face was pained with loss.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I shouldn't, not if don't, if you don't remember." Harry shook his head softly and with a one last touch along Draco cheek, Harry turned away and walked of. Leaving Draco alone in the shadowed corridor, alone with his thoughts, and memories.

TBC


	5. Memory’s Of a Time That Never Was

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Memory's Of a Time That Never Was

Draco pov

I hadn't slept well. Not that this was unusual, I normally only slept half the night, the rest being filled with nightmares, but this last night they weren't exactly what one would call a 'nightmare' not that they didn't scare me just as much. I blushed in recollection then scowled, shaking my head and firmly ordering myself to get a grip and remember not to eat before bedtime. 

The first class of the day would be Transfigurations, with the Gryffindors and, him. I steeled himself and firmly, attempted, to push out of my mind the dreams from last night. It didn't work very well. The majority of everyone was already seated leaving me with three seating options, sit beside Potter, sit behind Potter, or sit in front of his two sidekicks. Someone pushed past me sat behind Harry, and I sure as hell wasn't going to sit in front of Potter's demonic friends. 

Fixing on my best angry, but I don't really care, just annoyed at the world scowl, I sat in the chair next to Potter and cast his gaze in the opposite direction. This turned out to be more difficult than it first appeared, for no sooner had he looked away that I realized I was watching Potter out of the corner of my eye, and if I really failed to concentrate on my body's doings, which seemed to be out of my control lately, especially this morning…never mind. 

I gave up and simply tried to listen to Professor McGonagall while she explained that she was, in simple terms, test their memory from last year by having them, successfully, transfigure their desk into something. 

I went first transfiguring my desk into a lovely statue of polished marble, featuring a fire swan commonly found in the lava pits in Hawaii. McGonagall praised both Granger and my work giving us both ten points to our houses. While she continued on to check other work, my traitorous eyes once again sought Potter.

He wasn't doing anything, just sitting there, staring into space. All the while taping his quill sharpener on his desk, reminding of that time on the train. His hand had fewer wrapping this time but his left wrist was wrapped now as well. It's disgusting and beautiful at the same time. Did I just think that? Never mind, I hate Potter and I always have, there was never a future past and these images that I keep seeing are just from bad food or something…I hope. 

"Mr. Potter! I presume you are going to transfigure your desk sometime, unless you would like me to believe that you have simply transfigured it into another identical desk?" McGonagull, said sharply, rapping loudly on Potters desk.

Most of the students laughed at this and watched expectantly, last nights performance still fresh in their minds. Harry looked up slowly and smirked. He smirked! Almost identical to my own and before I, or anyone, could react. He stood up, paced back several steps from his desk. His hand came out in front of him, palm vertical, pointing at the desk. He flinched slightly and a jet of black fire shot from his palm and engulfed the table. Everyone watched as the table shifted, stretched and grew; changing colors until it became. 

A unicorn, but unlike any I had ever seen, black as midnight with a horn of pure silver instead of gold, its eyes burned with fire. It looked like a unicorn created in the depths of hell. No such unicorns as this existed on earth. Its heard turned slowly, watching all within the room and finally coming to rest upon Harry. I mean, fuck, I meant Potter…never mind. 

"Is this good enough Professor McGonagull?" Potter asked as the unicorn snuffed him. 

McGonagull nodded dumbstruck. Potter smiled and ran his hand down the great beast's side. Hermione stepped out slowly and put her hand out to the creature, it almost bit her fingers off. A few others also tried to gain the trust of the creature but they were lucky not to lose body parts as well. 

I have no fucking clue what compelled me but I stepped forward and offered the beast my cupped hand, half hoping he would take of half my fingers so that Potter would be expelled. He didn't though, he just sniffed my hand courteously, as if to appease my whims and settled back shifting his weight from one foot to the other. I cautiously walked over to one side, gently smoothing the hair along its neck. Potter watched me, a small smile upon his lips. Then his eyes lit up and I should have backed off then but instead I watched as he gracefully vaulted onto the things back and offered me his hand. 

I stared at his hand for what seemed like an infinite amount of time, everyone watching me for my reaction. Each and everyone of them expecting me to insult Potter and smack his hand away, I expected me to do the same. Instead I was filled with this overwhelming need to do exactly the opposite of what they expected. I didn't want to be Draco Malfoy, son of deatheater, anymore. I wanted to do whatever the hell I wanted and at that moment, I wanted to get on that horse. So I did.

I grabbed Harry's hand and with his help swung myself up behind him. I watched everyone's shocked faces and was shocked myself to find, that I didn't care. Let them think what they want. I never liked my father anyway, ok I hated his guts and repeatedly imagined killing him with my bare hands but, this felt right. This was perfect. I leaned into Harry's, yes Harry's, that's his name. I leaned into his back and wrapped my arms around his waist and was engulfed in memory's not my own and of my own and couldn't tear myself from them. Even as I was engulfed in an overwhelming fear and loss, my head filled with images from a time not existing, a time when I was willing to commit suicide, mentally broke down and a time when Harry was there to catch my fall.

The cold air hitting my face was what woke me up, I'm not even sure how we got outside but we were and the castle became farther and farther away until it was blocked out by the trees of the forbidden forest and we left. 

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Tbc


	6. Rude Awakenings

Sorry my updates are so slow in coming, what few reviewers I have left. What readers I have left. Do you ever have the nagging suspicion you said something wrong? Never mind, please review. 

Rude Awakenings 

Draco pov

I woke in a cold sweat, my blankets wrapped around me, confining my legs as I had struggled to escape the dream. Anger surged through me at the retreating nightmare, stupid pointless. Potter and I don't even have Transfiguration together, the only class we do have together is Potions! I'm going to kill myself. 

I swung my legs out from the side of the bed after freeing them. Walking to the bath and filling the sink with cold water. The water was a shock on my face, one greatly appreciated. 

I don't think he'll be sleeping any more this night.

Harry pov

I sat up in bed, haven wakened moments before from the most disgusting display of fluffy shit my sad little mind can handle at one point. I have no clue where the dream came from and I have no care to find out except to poke my brain out with a q-tip to teach it a lesson. Draco and I don't even have Transfigurations together! That was one frikin cool unicorn though. Can I do that? Only one way to find out.

Harry slipped from his bed, grabbing his invisibility cloak and slipping down through the silent castle. Objective? The Forbidden Forest for some extracurricular transfiguration homework.

Later in the day, some time after lunch, Double Potions, Gryffindors and Slytherins 

(How many of you saw that coming?) 

Harry sat. Draco sat. Next to each other. Both very pissed off. Not a good situation. Snape once again had paired them together, also bad thing. Working on dangerous potion at same time as angry and working together. Very, very bad thing. Expect bad things.

Harry slowly sharpened the dull scalpel Snape had had the generosity to give him. He seemed entirely focused upon his task to the point where you thought he was seeing nothing else. Except for the fact, that his entire body was tense and his hand shook almost imperceptibly. He acted like a mouse trap ready to snap, just waiting for some creature stupid enough to stick its nose in. 

On the other hand Draco had gotten less than three hours of sleep last night and, justifiably, had decided to, try, and take a nap on the table top. So far they had done most of the potion, neither speaking, now it was to simmer for the rest of the period. Snape had disappeared into the recesses of his office long ago, leaving his 'ever so competent' students to struggle it out themselves. Most had become restless and bored but knew better than to wander off because Snape would show up as soon as you did.

For a while all that filled the room was quiet wipers but another voice broke through and it, caused all other so to go silent and turn towards Harry Potter.

Harry whisper, softly. His Parsel tongue clinging to the air, following a slow graceful tune that seemed to envy the snakes own movements. A song he sang of all snakes making, taught to him by Proscrit in the greatest faith. He cursed them all. 

__

"Death, killing, imperceptible hatred

_Foul, useless, deserving to be dead_

_Weaklings, foolish beings_

Gods of self, gods of no one

Death to you and your kind

Humans shall inherit the earth

Together they shall also destroy it

Death in mercy to your kind

May you die"

The room was so quiet you could here everyone breathing and the simmering of the caldrons. Someone sniffled. 

Harry looked up from the scalpel, "What the fucking hell are you looking at?"

Those with any sense at all instantly found something to occupy themselves. Those with no sense still looked away and twiddled their thumbs. 

Harry shorted in disgust and murmured, "_ Idiots."_

__

Proscrit uncoiled himself from his Master's neck and raised his head up so that level with Harry's. Draco watched with horrid fascination.

" _I told you that once and you didn't believe me, Master._"

__

Harry nodded, "_How much of the present, future has changed? Is Snape still seeing Hermione, is Ron still oblivious, will Voldemort still initiate Draco into the Deatheaters?_"

__

"_It is as it should have been. You saw how it was._"

__

"_Because of my magic, the magic, that flows unhindered through me._"

__

"_Yes, Master._"

__

"_Why is it that Draco doesn't remember. He also has the magic._"

__

"_Had. He remembers the after affects of the magic. He only remembers when you touch him, for when you touch him you transfer through him the magic and awaken in him the memories._"

__

"_The memories of a future past. One that disappears more each passing day._"

__

"_Yes, but if you remember then part of that time will live on to awaken his mind to yours. Time is running out, Master._"

__

"_I know, Proscrit, I know._"

__

Proscrit rewound himself around Harry's neck as Harry's hands mindlessly honed the edge of the scalpel, now sharp enough to split hair. 

The door to Snape's office opened and he stepped out into the door frame, eyes evaluating every face in the room. Concentrating his gaze on those who showed him fear or nervousness. His eyes finally came to rest on Harry Potter who locked eyes with him fearlessly, foolishly, as if taunting Snape to look away. Harry stood, stepping away from the bench, the pulled his arm back and hurled the scalpel. It flew from his hand and imbedded in the door frame, inches from Snape's face. 

Snape flinched and paled as he looked at the scalpel, imbedded so deeply into the wood that none of the blade was exposed. When he looked back up, Harry remained, watching him, anger and satisfaction glistening in his eyes. Snape felt his stomach drop with the realization that Harry had missed intentionally, that he could have killed him if he had so chosen. Snape hadn't even had time to react. 

Harry's lip curled in disgust, "You make me sick." He spat. Then he calmly left the room, as if nothing had happened.

Draco couldn't help thinking that there was more to Potter than meets the eye. 

Tbc

Thankies:

Jalee- Thanks for continuing to review even when I, myself was to lazy to do thankies. I'm surprised I have any reviewers at all at this point. Please keep reviewing, without reviewers I have no will to fight I mean write! *dramatic pause* …Sorry…

Marie McBride- I actually had no intention for the little unicorn scene at all. It was, very, spontaneous, which is why it became a dream. I hope Proscrit's conversation cleared up your question. The lady changed what happened from the train scene on. Harry had his magic before that but Draco did lose his, not that it can't come back at some point. 

Throbbing-squirm- That is a very interesting screen name thing. Yes, I have no doubts you have an overactive imagination, I think just about the same way but I have trouble writing it. Unless if you've read Veela Blood, that was my first and only good sex scene. Review again 'k? 


	7. Fun

****

Fun.

"Help me kill him."

"What?" Draco spun around, eyes trying to focus in the midnight of the hall ways.

"Help me kill him." The voice repeated.

Draco listened with growing interest, leaned back against the proffered wall, "Who are you?"

"The one who asked you to come."

"I knew that. What's your name?" 

"You know my name."

"Quit fucking around!" Draco snarled, pushing away from the wall and stepping closer to the direction of the voice.

"My name doesn't matter until I know if you'll help me. I come offering you quite a bargain."

"What kind of bargain?" Draco asked cautiously watching around him for the invisible deal maker.

"One you can't turn down, one fate has proclaimed as destiny twisted in my grasp. The fool will die a week from now as read from the book of life." 

"The book of life is a forbidden artifact, it disappeared a hundred years ago." Draco stated, watching for a reaction.

"I know," said the voice, "I found it. Best not ask how, for know. Knowledge is something shared between friends, and we are not that, quite yet." 

"Who then?"

"I want you to help me kill Ron Weasley, I could do it myself but, I thought you might like to join me."

"Why? What do I have to do to gain this liberty?"

"A favor, nothing life threatening or mortally embarrassing, nothing to crush your ego."

"What then?"

"I'll tell you after we have a deal. A secret for now. Will you do it?"

"My father always warned me never to go into a fight blindfolded."

"If my father brutally whipped me for his own pleasure, I wouldn't listen to anything he said." The voice snarled.

Draco started, going pale in the flickering torch light, "How did you…know?" He began to slide back against the wall away from the voice, "It's not true…I don't know where you heard something like….that."

"Still your weak point isn't it? Your father." 

The voice sounded from behind Draco, the way he was trying to escape. Draco started and stumbled back in the opposite direction. A hand appeared, pressing up against Draco's chest, forcing him back against the wall.

"Do we have a deal Draco?"

Draco stared down at the hand pinning him to the wall, weighing his options and the consequences, "If we get caught?"

"We won't. If something does happen to go wrong then I can assure you I will happily take all the blame."

"Then…it's a deal, my friend."

"Good," The hand released him and disappeared once again, "tomorrow, midnight. Go to library and I will meet you there."

"Yes," Draco nodded and smirked absentmindedly, "I have wanted to kill the Weasel for such a long time."

"As have I, probably not as long as you though, it seems just this year he started to grate on my nerves."

"And the fact that the school year just started a few days ago?"

"So I'm a shallow, conceited, egotistical, prick that, it seems are the only things we have in common."

Draco smiled, as in really smiled, and gave a sort of half laugh, half sigh, "Before I leave, you said once the deal was made you say what you wanted from me. If it's money or contacts it might take a little while."

The voice laughed lightly, "Oh, it's nothing like that." The voice slid closer until Draco could have reached out and touched it, "All I want from you is…well let me show you." 

The invisible man once again pressed Draco to the wall, a hand pinning him as another hand slowly traced down Draco's chin and neck. Draco stiffened as he felt a stream of hot air on his neck, as this stranger slowly leaned against him. He fought down arousal as a tongue slipped up his neck, coming back down to plant slow, delicate kisses. Both hands now roamed freely as his body weight pinned him to the wall, not that he couldn't escape if he struggled but, he wasn't struggling. 

A hand cupped Draco's cheek, the other slipping though his hair. Another breath of hot air warmed Draco's lips and had Draco's eyes been open he would have seen but, again, they were not. Lips brushed Draco's and he whimpered slightly, completely lost, unaware anymore of himself. Draco just wanted for that moment to be touched and held and in the very bottom depths of his heart he ached, for once in his life to be loved, but he would never admit that to himself. 

Those lips captured Draco's own and held them. Holding with them a silent promise and a desperate plea. The lips pulled away and the weight began to lessen upon Draco's body but, Draco reached out and captured his invisible lover, pulling him back to himself. Feeling this strangers skin, Draco knew that his was something he could have. Something he had before and it had completed him but in his mind he felt the weighing presence of those scars his father had left him, not only physically but mentally. How can one ever expect to find true happiness and love when all your life you have been punished for expecting it, wanting it, having it.

Draco startled, pushing him away with such force that he slammed into the other wall, knocking the breath out of the stranger with a sickening thud.

"Never do that again you bastard." Draco hissed through clenched teeth, face flushed.

An invisible hand pushed itself up right, away from the wall, a small chuckle issuing from the hidden depths of his mouth, "We made a deal, Draco, if you remember."

Draco rushed forward, grasping out in front of him until his hand curled around a grip of cloth. Reaching up Draco grip his assailant by the throat, using his anger as leverage to lift the bastard above him. The invisible man's breathing slowed to a low whisper but he didn't struggle or gasp. Draco snarled violently, swinging around and releasing him, smashing into the wall across, a muffle of air was heard in the sudden stillness of the hallway. Draco turned to leave.

"Tomorrow midnight, Draco."

Draco didn't look back and as he was about to round the corner, paused and called back, "I'll be there."

Harry picked himself up off the ground, flipping back his hood, inhaling deeply but carefully from his injured lungs, "That's why I fell in love with you. See you there, Draco." And turning in the opposite direction he headed down toward the Gryffindor dorms and his bed but he wouldn't be sleeping tonight just yet. He had much planning to do.

TBC

Thankies-

Tenku-no-Sora- Hey thanks for reviewing, I took your review as a great bit of inspiration for this chapter actually. So Ron will die and I'm working on turning Draco into as much of a bastard as Harry. I'm just not used to the concept yet. Review again! I demand critiquement on the new chapter!

Stephanie felton- calm down! Geeze, I'm sorry I took so long to update but you're kinda scary and don't beg it's degrading for both of us…well actually only you but all my reviewers are like mini gods and should always look tiptop spiffy and such. Don't worry about witt'le Draco, he'll remember enough and I'm not that sadistic and cruel as to not put them back together. And wipe that up *points at drool puddle*

musicgirl225-You thought I had died! That's so sweet. Of course I'm gonna write a sequel, I just love this story to much to let it go! And you'll get your R rating, if not in blood in…ok, maybe I'll write a sex scene, but only if I have to. I wrote a really good one in veela blood, that's D/H pairing too, you need to read it and review it, I think you might like it. Anyway…

Jalee- Loyal little reviewer I thank you from the bottom of my heart and feel free to threaten me all you like, I think it's funny when you reviewers threaten or bribe me…I only have a couple worshipers though, but I've done the same thing when I review other stories so I can't say and you're right, Draco should have punch Harry or hexed him or something but I wasn't thinking at the moment.

Marie McBride- I think that Snape and Hermione are still seeing each other, I'd like to delve more into that this time around actually, like having Harry and Draco spread it all over the school and then when confronted pull out some of those lovely wizarding pictures that have the occupants 'moving' inside…never mind, I'm an idiot. Thanks for reviewing. 

Wyntre de Romanov- you weren't expecting a dream sequence I wasn't expecting the whole scene, that entire chapter was completely spontaneous and unplanned and later, after I had thought about it, not a good idea. I'm very proud of my new Harry, I just love him to bits, I'm hoping that soon Draco can come up to join him.

throbbing-squirm- You're scary, you know that? You remind me of a friend I have. Very interesting is how I describe her and appropriately how I will describe you. By the way, I'm sorry I took so long to update but…just don't come near me. It's people like you that invent rapid ninja gophers. Not that's a bad thing but they're…rapid ninja gophers….

deaths mistress- thanks for revewing…besides my own stories it would almost be a crime to say more but, Obsession by blanchemalfoy is pretty good.


	8. Blood of the Midnight Moon

****

Blood of the Midnight Moon 

Draco eased into the library, feeling ultimately exposed, already he had almost been caught by Filch and Mrs. Norris twice and he was beginning to think the whole thing was a ruse. The library was gutted and dark, drowning in shadows and forsaken of all kinds of light. A figure stood, back facing him, no invisibility to hide him this time. Draco watched as the one, caulked his head slowly and swiveled to face me, his face shadowed with flecks of darkness, like the splattering of fresh blood. 

"So you've come," He whispered, holding up a hand, "It's time to begin Draco, _Luminos_" 

The light spread out from his hand like a night blooming rose, shedding light upon his face.

"Potter." Draco said horrified, "It was a trap."

Harry burst out laughing, the flower of light lifting from his hand and swimming up towards the ceiling. Harry strode forward leisurely, reaching out and grabbing Draco's arm even as he attempted to pull away and escape. 

"You are quiet mistaken, my Draco." Harry said teasingly, allowing his grip to slip down and pick up Draco's hand, lifting it up to his lips and lightly kissing the back, "I asked you here the night before, a sort of date but, as you must remember, I already told you that I would take any and all falls that come from this, expedition." 

"You've lost it, Potter." 

Harry smiled, still holding Draco's hand, a glint reflecting through his eyes, "I've lost it, yes, I did, when I fell in love with the most unlikely person in the world."

"Now is not the time to talk about your midnight escapades to Snapes room, Potter." Draco snipped.

Harry laughed, "No, I'm afraid that would be Hermione's job. I'd like to think you know the answers to all riddles Draco, if I could open your minds memory."

"What are yo…" Draco started.

Harry cut him off, "We need to go, it's almost midnight, it's good thing you came early."

The light faded from the room and Draco was filled with sickening dropping feeling as the shadows of the library disappeared and were replaced with complete blackness. A floating sensation invaded Draco's consciousness and a feeling of eternal nothingness, a reminiscent of despair unmatched. The darkness was suddenly filled with light, Draco cast around his surroundings, a black void surrounded him from every angle even what his mind perceived him to be standing on held no real substance or color but black. 

Harry stood off to one side, eyes closed in concentration, a bead of sweat rolling down his face, his breathing laboring slightly. His palms were pressed together, mimicking the form of prayer, slowly swiveling down until they pointed downwards. His eyes snapped open and his hand relaxed and fell slack at his side, at the same instant a form began to materialize in front of Harry. As it solidified and sharpened into reality, Draco saw it as a large wooden cross and nailed to it in the way of the crucifix was, Weasly. 

Ron hung slack from the cross, wrists and ankles slowly oozing his life blood away, his head fell forward, eyes closed but whether it was because of unconsciousness or some other reason Draco couldn't tell.

"Where are we?" Draco asked cautiously.

"In my own personal reality I created just now. No time passes here and no one can enter or leave without my help."

"You've truly lost it, Potter."

"Oh, please." Harry sighed, flicking his wrist experimentally, a long ceremonially looking dagger appearing in his hand, "call me Harry, Draco. Potter gets so tiring after a while."

Draco frowned, "Harry then." He spat the name.

Harry smiled, "Much better, less venom and it'd be perfect." He glanced at 

Ron's lax form, "Conscious or Unconscious?" he turned to Draco, "Your choice, but I'd rather hear him scream and have him know exactly who it was that killed him."

Draco smiled, "Conscious of course, you're not the only one who wants to hear him scream."

Harry nodded, flicking a finger at Ron, a stream of light running over him. Ron's eyes opened, his body jerking upright, he gasped in pain, and tried, unsuccessfully to pull away causing even more pain.

"I wouldn't do that, it'll only cause more pain, Ron." Harry said casually, running a finger up the knife blade, which trembled visibley, yearning, "Don't worry my friend," Harry whispered to the knife, "I will quench your thirst soon enough." He turned to Draco, "I hope you don't mind me borrowing your knife, Draco."

Draco shook his head mutely, all his interest focusing on this new Harry he had the privilege of being with.

Ron struggled to raise his head, finally managing to pull it up and lean it back against the rough wood of the cross, "What's happening Harry? Did you come to save me? It hurts so much. What's Draco doing here?" Ron squeezed out all at once, in one breath. 

Harry turned back towards Ron, pulling another knife from nothingness and tossing over to Draco who caught it gracefully by the proffered handle. 

"How to answer your questions," Harry mused, stepping forward, "Well strait to the point might as well work. I'm not here to save you, Ron, I brought you here, I'm going to kill you and Draco's going to help."

Ron's eyes opened wide, fear and shock mixed within, "You're not Harry."

Harry smiled, " I beg to differ, my friend." He spread his hand inches from Ron's chest, fire darker than the pits of hell jumped from his palm, igniting on Ron's clothing. Ron screamed as the fire ate away at his sleeper, burning and kindling his flesh but not enough to ruin him. The fire faded away as Ron was left bare to the world. Harry once again spread his hand inches from the tender injured flesh of Ron's chest. Light began to spring along Ron's chest, spreading out and separating. A pentagram emerged, followed by cryptic runes of the ancient magic's, the center of his chest, exactly where Ron's heart was located, appeared a large curling symbol.

Ron's breathing was labored and chocked, tears streamed down his face, mingling in the light etched patterns. 

Harry looked over at Draco, "Now, we just have to trace the design, etched in blood and tears. Do not, however cause him to bleed to much, he can't die until the design in complete." He turned and glanced at Ron, watching his labored breathing and weak struggles, "Now we can't have that, hold still Ron." Harry commanded, pressing his finger slowly against Ron's forehead, his movements stopped and his breathing relaxed but his eyes flickered around in panic.

"I can't move." Ron whimpered the obvious.

Harry grinned, and licked him lips slowly, "Shall we begin, Draco?" 

They began, tracing the golden light along Ron's body as he screamed in agony. Blood spilled down from him as the two reveled in his agonies. They took turns telling Ron his every short coming, the reasons they hated him and all the things people whispered behind his back. The blood congealed and up from it rose the tangy scent of copper and death. In some places, the skin began to peel away, loosened by the slipping blood and brutal butchers that worked at it holds of flesh. Harry would whisper a word of power and press the blade against the slipping flesh, burning it and sealing it to it's place. Ron's screams faded as they neared completion, his face pale as death, only the occasional moan or whimper. 

Then the last line was complete and the light that had showed them the pattern disappeared and the air seemed to fill with the drone of magic. The two stepped away from their accomplishment, covered in blood and in rapture of their bloodlust. 

Harry sighed happily then turned to Draco, face turned to stone, "Draco, you know how I said I would ask for a payment for our deal? Now I will take it."

Draco looked confused, "But in the hall…" He blushed, "wasn't that the payment?" He turned away, hating himself in his embarrassment.

Harry shook his head, "That was only part of the payment." Harry turned back to Ron a bloodied fingerprint releasing Ron from his paralysis and he slumped down upon his own weight. Harry reached out and touched the curling symbol over Ron's heart, "Do you know what this symbol means, Draco?"

Draco shook his head, "No."

"It's the symbol I implanted in your soul, that night in the hall, that was more than a kiss, this is the symbol of your soul and thanks to your cooperation through the entire the process the spell will soon be completed. That is the payment."

Draco's eyes opened wide, "What the fuck? What's going to happen, what the fuck are you up to, Potter?!" Anger seeped from his every pore.

"My name is Harry, Draco." Harry said softly and taking the knife turned to Ron, poising the knife over the symbol, "_Renvinitvious Caprinios Gabriana Memorionic Bloresid Enventia!_" The spell was out of Harry mouth before Draco could even react and just as Draco stepped foreword, the blade plunged forward, entering Ron's chest and impaling his heart. The spell found completement and exploded from its realms of containment and engulfed it's spells required even as Ron's life drained away and his soul fled his body.

Draco screamed as his mind and body was captured in the enthrallment of the spell and Draco's world went black. Harry smiled. 


	9. Aura

I'm sorry, that's all I can say, but you know I begging and pleading your forgiveness and praying to whatever omnipotent being you believe in that you won't all lynch me deep down inside. Of course my explanation isn't much better. You see I went to Hawaii for a week and it was really, really nice but I couldn't bring my laptop, little Ario, along with me, so no writing then. When I got home my friend lent me this really, really good video game, dot hack infection, you have to play it, and every day I came home from school I had to ask myself, video game or writing, dot hack won out most of the time but, anyway, this chapter is like a desperate apology for not writing. A whole four pages, it's got to be one of the longest Dreams of Remembrance chapters ever. So don't kill me, read, enjoy and, goddess be willing, Review! 

Aura

Harry sat at the end of one of the four expansive tables signifying the four houses. The light just beginning to pierce the darkness of the false ceiling above. Dawn herald the waking morn and the rise of those living there within. A soft breeze echoing from some unseen corner circled the room, traveling last down the Ravenclaw table, the house prefigure of intelligence, and twined up Harry's stiff form, who shivered slightly, gathering his blood tainted robes more closely around him. 

Harry frowned as the rays of light from above penetrated his dark shadow. He gazed down eyes flowing over the two prone figures on the floor, one that breathed and one lacking of that which in makes a person whole, his soul was gone. 

Harry hadn't intended on obliterating Ron's soul, the magic hadn't spoke of such a price when it had whispered the spell into his ear late in the full moon rise. One thing for certain, no matter how the Goddess wished to manipulate Harry's life now, Ron would no longer be in it. A soul once destroyed can never again find a way to any realm. Ron was lost. Harry fought down a smile at this appealing thought.

The magic twists you, Harry thought but then he knew that as soon as he began using it. All good will and intentions lost and replaced with an over whelming need, for no cost stands in the way of ultimate power, a need for what the wielder wants most in the world. Harry wants only a few things, to be recognized for more than not dieing, to have a life of comfort and love, and most important and foremost, Draco.

Draco who lay upon the floor, curled into a ball, a mere amount of feet from where Harry sat upon the Ravenclaw table. Blood soaked Draco's robes his frame wracked with shaking from a nonexistent cold, his face drawn with exhaustion.

Harry wasn't sure if it had worked, such a risky spell, left to trusting the voice in the silence of night in Harry's dreams. Could a spell, even a powerful one, break the containment of Draco's lost memories? Harry knew his own access to the flow of pure magic had allowed him to penetrate the Goddess's fold over his mind but could he do the same to Draco?

Harry slid off the table and walked the few steps over to Draco's trembling form. He knelt before Draco and carefully wiped a red stained lock from Draco's eyes. 

"Draco?" Harry whispered, trailing a finger down the pale cheek, "Draco?" he inquired once more, his finger coming to rest atop Draco's lips, breath stirring from within.

Harry felt Draco's breath quicken slightly, and watched as his beautiful storm grey eyes opened and met his own.

"Draco." Harry smiled softly.

Draco pulled away slightly, watching Harry like a wild beast might wary its captor. He pulled himself up slowly, his arms shaking from ague, until he was sitting up, weaving slightly, with one hand still held to the ground to not lose the precious balance gained. 

Harry's expression deepened, he reached out slowly, pausing as Draco made to move back again and finally was allowed to touch Draco's face, cupping it to one side, his other hand brushing away hair from Draco's eyes. Draco's eyes closed slowly and leaned into Harry hand, a movement quivered at Draco's mouth that may have been a smile but it pulled away and Draco's face settled into contentment.

Harry sank down to sit in front of Draco, watching his eyes. The hand that had before combed through Draco's bloodied locks pulled away and made to press a single finger in the center of Draco's forehead but Draco warily pulled away from it but seemed unwilling to pull from the hand cradling his face.

"Draco? Please…" Harry pleaded, fighting the desperation that had begun to take root in his very being, "Draco…trust me please, or at least speak to me? I want to hear your voice."

Draco closed his eyes slowly and his mouth opened to form words but nothing but silence yielded. Draco reached up and touched his own throat, a look of despair reflected in his eyes, begging with his eyes for Harry to help him. 

Harry's despair overwhelmed him and came to share place with fear, a pin prick of light, pure and clean, shone upon the finger tip once before pulled away from. Harry once again reached forward and this time Draco didn't pull away but submitted to Harry's careful touch. 

Harry slipped in Draco's inner mental barrier with ease; inside he found Draco's mind a clutter as if a greedy pillager had ravaged it. As Harry slipped through Draco's brutalized mind, touching nothing he realized what had happened there in. The spell whispered in the night had conflicted so violently with the Goddesses seal, it had almost destroyed Draco's mind. But, the pieces were all there, the mind was broken but all the pieces were there so it could be put back together, slowly carefully. It would take time and patience, but most importantly he would need to keep Draco's mind in balance, to much emotion, to much anger or grief could push Draco into madness.

Harry sighed and gently eased Draco towards himself. Draco complied, fatigue giving him little other choice other than to collapse upon himself. Harry felt as if he was coaxing a kitten into his arms and Draco in fact was left with little more in thoughts at the moment. He wanted warmth, food and someplace safe and within the recesses of his shattered memories he knew that this person, smelling of blood and darkness, would hold him safe. 

Although he knew he could provide food, shelter and safely, there was something even more important that this person could offer although but he couldn't remember now, couldn't remember anything, the one who knew such of little and nothing at all. The one who was so kind, the one who promised something unknown but yearned for, he had called the mind-lost one, Draco. Was that my name? That name holds too much pain; the one closed his ears to it, pushing the pain away from his minds eye. 

The vestiges of his strength diminished the one, the lost voice amid millions, gave himself up to the stranger. Half crawling, half falling the one fell against the kind stranger, pressing his body close to the stranger, trying to absorb his body heart; too cold, the one was so cold. He closed his eyes and sank into a dark oblivion of depthless sleep.

Harry gathered Draco closer to himself, pressing himself up into standing position and leaned back against the Ravenclaw table, carefully readjusting Draco's unconscious form. As he did so the sun finally filtered through grey dust filaments of dawn, spreading its light upon the grisly scene that, before, was muted in the twilight. Harry stood silent a moment, studying that which lay before him, that which he created and destroyed.

The cross had faded, a product of unsupported magic, it had vanished as Harry had pulled them from his void, the initial wave of magic released from the spell destabilizing the field of nothingness. The collapsing of the void had, consequently, resulted in a time alteration, so that when Harry finally returned to the true world the time had not only shifted from midnight to predawn but the shift had also propelled them into hall instead of the library where they had left from. 

Ron's body glistened dully in the light, half congealed blood caught in between solid and liquid. The design carved upon his body, muted by the overlaying blood but blatantly obvious at the same time. His skin, what little was clean was waxy and utterly colorless, his eyes locked open in rigor mortis, the last expression before death set upon him with that last fatal blow was one of shock, horror, and betrayal. Harry had read in a book once, or more rather listened as Hermione lectured to them, about how when a person dies a violent death, the last thing they see is so forceful imprinted in their mind that it can be retrieved by certain spells.

Harry knew exactly what they would see and knew, was sure that, they would think, 'our beloved Harry Potter couldn't do that, not our little hero' and they'll whip up a convenient little story about how Draco was controlling Harry and it's all Voldemort's fault. They'll never get it, until it's blatantly rubbed in their faces they can't even see the truth before their own noses. 

Tom Riddle was like that as well, certainly he didn't stop a tyrannical wizard bent on destroying all of muggle kind but he did manage, to not die at one very crucial point in his life and came back, just as Harry grew up and they met again and again. But, in the beginning Voldemort was just Tom Riddle, smart, popular to a certain extent, head boy, and good looking. Tom Riddle was in fact not much different from Harry Potter. Both have/had dreams no one was willing to see past that perfect little facade they built up. In a way it is their fault for pushing Tom Riddle to the edge and, yet they don't know it yet, Harry was long ago push over that edge. 

Harry turned slowly facing the door just as it moved open itself, Professor Dumbledore directing his wand at the stubborn doors, behind him the irritable voices of McGonagul and Snape, arguing about something or another. Behind even those voice were lighter ones, voices of those students who had risen earlier than the other in their dorms, which would be following shortly behind. Most hadn't turned the corner yet, to gaze upon the spectacle artfully contrived on the dining hall floor. Dumbledore was to locked in his own happy world, opening the doors with odd eccentric twitches of his wand, ultimately he turned, the doors only half open, the smell was probably what had finally woken his senses. Death hung in the air.

A light ringing sound echoed through the hollow drawing of the bloodied hall, Dumbledore's glasses had fallen upon the floor. He stared in shock at the archaic stone walls of the ancient castle, covered in streaks and sprays of blood. 

Everything that had happened in the void had been transposed to this room. In various places the walls had smeared and drawn, bloodied handprints as if Ron psyche restrained by the cross before had wrecked its havoc in it last dieing will. Tables were rent with great rashes along their ancient coppice and shimmering with flakes of blood. The hangings upon the wall, signifying the four houses had been rent to tatters, the hanging with the Hogwarts coat of arm on it was the only thing left seemingly untouched except for the design of blood meticulously painted there on. The symbol for snake circling the outer rim the internal design was familiar, a swirling, defiant symbol, the symbol of Draco's soul and overlaid upon that where two letters, curling in an antediluvian fashion, **_H P_**

Harry watched as the Headmaster's eyes slowly absorbed all that lay before him, lastly straying to look upon Ron's mutilated form and Harry, Draco held tightly in his arms. Behind him others appeared, shock, dismay, horror, most of the students ran off to be sick, others looked on in horrific fascination, others in shock, Hermione among them. 

Harry sighed softly, looking down at his precious cargo and back up at those assembled. He smiled slightly and muttered, "I hope it doesn't stain to badly." He shifted the weight in his arms and walked through the crowd, who rippled away from him, afraid to touch him, and headed up the stairs to his room. He was exhausted. 

TBC!

Fun huh? Please review, I'll love you forever, well maybe not forever, but for as long as you review! Comment, ideas, maybe even a flame or two, please? Sorry about not writing Thankies this time around, I have very limited internet access at home that includes uploading chapters and every now and then checking my reviews, that's about it. Sorry Thank you Love You Hate You Don't Take That Literally Ok Good.


	10. The Sleep of Angels

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The Sleep of Angels 

Draco slept. He looked like an angel, surrounded by his halo of gossamer white hair although, with all the blood stained through it, and angel of death would be more appropriate. Harry sighed, pulling the blankets over Draco's thin shoulders and gently wiping away some of the hair caught upon his forehead. 

Walking to the other side of the room Harry grabbed a velvet covered stool and placed it next to the bed where Draco slept so peacefully. Harry had enveloped Draco within a sheet of deep and contentment, warding his mind and body from excessive stress. It was fragile though and so he had come to his own "Head boy" apartment and hidden Draco away here, safer though not very well hidden.

Harry leaned himself on the side of the bed, grasping one of Draco's hands gently in his own, from there he began the cautious decent into Draco's ruined mind. It was like seeing a jigsaw puzzle only this puzzle had a million pieces and was made of gossamer thoughts and crystal memories. Harry began, sorting slowly, placing things in orders of time, from when he was born to now. Amid the carnage he found two memories of equal times, he held those separate.

At first Harry didn't know where to begin, too many pieces and so little knowledge of Draco's life up to now. Harry decided finally to reassemble what he knew better than anyone, their memories together. Those pieces he could place, some large, some smaller than starlight. They were different than his own memories of the time, colored with doubt, anger and fear. As he placed them memories echoed up, seen from Draco's eyes.

He worked for what seemed to be an eternity, placing one tiny piece after another, cementing it in place with magic, love and Draco's own soul and he paused to look upon his work, a fragment of memory the span of a couple days to the most and for all that work he had assembled the amount proportional to a drop of water in the ocean. It seemed hopeless but he would continue on, he would persevere, for Draco.


	11. Memories of Only You

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Memories of Only You

"Wake up, little dragon." Harry whispered softly.

Draco's eyes flickered open and focused upon the ceiling above him, slowly he turned and looked at the voice that called him. In his mind the voice became a person and Draco remembered a time in the past of the two of them and Harry…yes Harry, had protected him.

"Harry?" Draco croaked, his throat parched.

Harry smiled and helped Draco sit up and drink some water, "You have to eat now, Draco." 

Draco nodded and allowed Harry to help him. 

"Why is it that I only remember you?" Draco asked softly.

Harry sighed and frowned softly, "Because I don't know anything else about you. You'll have to repair those things yourself. If you want to."

"Fix them myself? But…I have you, do I need anything else?" Draco asked with a child's innocence.

Harry smiled sadly, "Our memories together are sweet but the time before that and those memories are what make you, you and what allows us to be together, because of before, because of the pain, because of everything." 

"No!" Draco said, turning over and hugging his knees to his chest, "I don't want to remember the pain! I don't want to!"

Harry reached out and touched Draco and found the figure under his hand shaking, "Not just time we had together, although we could be together on just that for some time, but I want all of you, Draco. All of you."

Draco relaxed slightly and turned around to look at Harry, "All of me? No one….but….only, all of me?"

Harry smiled, leaned forward and gently kissed Draco's forhead, "Can I keep you? Forever this time?"

Draco's eyes welled with tears and he nodded.

"Good." Harry drew Draco into his arms and held him close, "I'm never letting you go again."

****

THE END


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